Chapter 605
You won't surrender? Then let's start a war!
Fear and resentment intertwined, ultimately overriding the rational assessment of the vast disparity in strength.
After all, abandoning a stronghold they had cultivated for decades and being driven away in disgrace was a humiliation and a real loss that they simply could not accept.
Moreover, a sliver of hope lingered deep within them—perhaps Zheng Zhilong was merely bluffing, perhaps the Ming army's fighting strength wasn't as terrifying as legend suggested, perhaps... with their fortified positions and "advanced" firearms, they could indeed create a miracle and force the Ming army to retreat.
Ultimately, driven by a complex mix of fear, wishful thinking, resentment, and despair, Kui and Fernando reached an agreement:
Refuse to surrender, fight to the death!
They ordered all soldiers to a state of high alert, deployed the fleet around the harbor, loaded the coastal batteries, and sent musketeers into their designated positions. They were determined to defend this hard-won colony with their blood and steel.
Meanwhile, on the Ming army's flagship, the Zhenhai.
A stick of incense, lit on purpose, burned quietly in the sea breeze, its smoke curling upwards before finally turning to ash and drifting away silently.
Zheng Zhilong stood with his hands behind his back at the bow of the ship, gazing at the Western fleet and coastal fortress in the distance, which showed no signs of surrender but instead appeared even more tense. His face showed no surprise, only a cold and murderous expression.
He had long anticipated this outcome. These greedy barbarians wouldn't shed a tear until they saw the coffin.
"An incense stick has burned out."
Zheng Zhilong's voice was calm and even, yet it seemed to carry a metallic tremor, clearly reaching the ears of every general beside him.
"It seems that these red-haired devils and Portuguese are determined to test the meager strength of my Great Ming army with their meager possessions."
He slowly turned around, his gaze sharp as lightning, sweeping over the faces behind him, faces filled with fighting spirit and eagerness. A cold and resolute smile curved his lips.
"Since that's the case, then so be it—use cannons and muskets to show them what divine might is, and what despair is!"
"Pass on my order—"
Zheng Zhilong's voice suddenly rose, like a sharp sword drawn from its sheath, piercing the silence of the sea and sky:
"All troops—attack! The bugle calls are the command, the drums are the rhythm, the vanguard changes formation, the left and right flanks encircle, the center presses forward, let's turn this sea area into the graveyard of these barbarians!"
"Understood!"
"The Duke has ordered! All troops, attack!"
The next second, a loud, powerful horn sound, carrying endless killing intent, like the roar of an ancient behemoth, exploded above the Zheng family fleet! Immediately following was the earth-shattering sound of war drums, as if they were about to shatter the sea!
"Waaaaaah!"
"Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump—!"
The massive Ming fleet, like a sleeping dragon suddenly awakened, began to slowly accelerate and adjust its formation.
The vanguard of dozens of large gunboats and fast warships, like arrows released from a bow, broke away from the main force and, in a spearhead formation, charged swiftly towards the Western fleet and the coast, cutting through the waves!
The fleets on the left and right flanks, like giant birds spreading their wings, began to maneuver and encircle the western fleet in the seas on both sides, intending to cut off the western fleet's retreat and attack its flanks.
The main force of the central army, including Zheng Zhilong's flagship "Zhenhai", advanced steadily like a mountain, providing powerful fire support and the final assault force.
A decisive naval battle that would determine the fate of Dongfan was about to begin!
When the vanguard of both fleets closed the distance to about four or five kilometers, a deafening roar erupted on the sea almost simultaneously!
"fire--!"
"Fire—!"
Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom—!!
Orange-red flames instantly spewed from the gun ports on the sides of both warships! Countless heavy solid iron projectiles, with a piercing shriek as they tore through the air, traced deadly parabolic arcs, crashing down on each other like hailstones from hell!
The shelling sounds were continuous, like muffled thunder rolling in the sky, or like a roar coming from the depths of the earth.
On the sea, water columns shot skyward instantly, and smoke filled the air! Shells fell into the sea, stirring up white splashes several meters high; when they hit the hull, terrifying sounds of wood shattering and rivets flying off erupted, accompanied by shrill screams.
Just as the intelligence had indicated, the Portuguese artillery did indeed have a slight advantage in range.
Their naval guns may not have been as large as some of the Ming army's giant cannons, but they were longer, more sophisticated in craftsmanship, and had more rational designs for propellant and ballistics, which made their effective range much greater than that of the old-style breech-loading cannons and red-barreled cannons commonly used by the Ming army.
In the early stages of the battle, several Ming vanguard warships were hit by Western barbarian cannonballs before they even entered their optimal firing range. The ships were damaged, the sails broke, and some even caught fire and took on water, causing the offensive to stall.
However, despite the anticipated disadvantage in firepower, Zheng Zhilong, standing on the command platform of the "Zhenhai", showed no sign of panic.
Having traversed the seas for decades, what kind of battles hadn't he seen? In his eyes, the disadvantage in range was nothing more than a chasm that could be bridged by paying a higher price.
"Send word to the forwards!"
Zheng Zhilong's voice was calm, carrying an unquestionable determination.
"Class A suicide squad, step forward! Charge forward, draw enemy fire, and cover the main warships' advance! Tell our men, today is the day to die for our country! Those who fight to the death will receive double the compensation, and their families will be supported by me!"
"Yes!"
The order was quickly relayed. Immediately, dozens of smaller but exceptionally sturdy and agile fast ships and sentry boats rushed out from the Ming fleet.
These ships were hardly equipped with heavy artillery. The decks were piled with wet sandbags and waterlogged quilts as makeshift protection. The sailors and soldiers on board all had resolute eyes and were ready to die.
They were Zheng Zhilong's most elite and fearless "suicide squad".
These suicide ships, like moths drawn to a flame, fearlessly charged into the dense barrage of Western barbarian artillery fire at top speed in skirmish lines! Their objective was not to sink enemy ships, but to draw fire, disrupt the enemy ships' firing rhythm, and buy precious time for the main force of large gunboats behind them to approach!
"Bang! Bang! Boom—!"
The Western barbarians' cannonballs kept falling, some exploding into huge columns of water next to the suicide ship, and others hitting the hull directly.
Splinters flew everywhere, flesh was mangled, and screams filled the air. Suicide boats were constantly being hit, catching fire, and slowly sinking, or riddled with holes and losing power.
But the suicide ships that followed continued to charge forward relentlessly, without flinching! With their lives and courage, they tore a gap through the barrage of fire, greatly disrupting and drawing the attention of the Western fleet's artillery. Taking advantage of this opportunity, the Ming army's main warships, under the cover of the suicide squads, accelerated at full speed, braving sporadic gunfire, and charged forward! The distance was rapidly closing!
Three kilometers... two kilometers... one kilometer...
When the Ming army's leading large gunboats finally entered the effective range of their own cannons, the long-suppressed anger was instantly and completely released!
"Fire! Give them a good beating! Avenge our brothers in the suicide squad—!"
"put--!"
Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom—!!
This bombardment was completely different from the previous bombardments by the Western barbarians! Although the Ming army's equipment had a shorter range than some of the Western barbarians', it had a larger caliber, more explosive charge, and astonishing destructive power! In particular, the replica "Hongyi cannons" equipped on Zheng Zhilong's flagship "Zhenhai" and several of the newest gunboats fired solid iron bullets weighing tens of kilograms, which were terrifyingly powerful!
A cannonball from a Ming Dynasty cannon struck a Dutch galleon at the waterline! The thick oak planks were torn apart like paper, seawater rushed in, and the warship began to list at a visible speed. The sailors jumped into the sea to escape like dumplings being dropped into boiling water.
Another shell struck the base of the mainmast of a Portuguese carrack, the massive mast snapping with a sickening crack as it collapsed with the rigging onto the deck, causing chaos and fire.
The artillery battle entered its most brutal and bloody phase.
The two sides were so close that they could almost see the terrified faces of the sailors on the opposite ship.
Cannonballs, like the scythe of death, lashed out between the two fleets. More and more ships burned on the sea, billowing smoke almost obscuring the sky. Soldiers who had fallen into the water struggled and cried for help in the icy water, but no one paid them any attention.
The entire battlefield transformed into a massive, noisy inferno, filled with the smoke and stench of death.
However, as the distance closed, the Ming army's absolute advantage in the number, caliber, and sustained firepower of its artillery began to show an overwhelming effect.
Under the Ming army's relentless bombardment, the Western barbarian fleet was like a small boat in a storm, one after another being hit, caught fire, sank, or rendered incapable of fighting.
Their counterattacks, faced with the dense firepower of the Ming army, became increasingly weak and scattered.
"Retreat! Retreat now! Back to the harbor, rely on the coastal defense artillery!"
Seeing his fleet suffer heavy losses and almost be wiped out, Governor Coyett finally came to his senses from his initial fervor and realized that the naval battle had been lost. He issued a desperate order to retreat.
The remaining thirty or so Western barbarian warships, which were still operational, were like startled birds. They no longer cared about their formation, turned their bows, and desperately fled towards the protection zone of the coastal forts in Da Yuan Bay.
On the sea, there were more than twenty burning, capsized or sunken shipwrecks, as well as countless floating pieces of wood, corpses and struggling drowning people.
Zheng Zhilong coldly observed the fleeing enemy ships through his binoculars, but did not order a full-scale pursuit.
His primary objective was to capture Dongfan Island; annihilating the enemy fleet was merely a means, not an end.
Enemy ships that escape into the harbor will become sitting ducks.
"Order! Cease pursuit of the routed enemy fleet! All ships, clear the battlefield, treat the wounded, and repair damage. Marines, transfer to landing craft and prepare for a beach landing! Target—Ta-Yuan Sandbar and the coast of Chi-Han!"
"Order!"
The massive Ming fleet began to slow down. Some ships remained in the open sea to patrol and clean up the battlefield, while the rest launched countless small landing craft, like swarms of ants. Loaded with heavily armed infantry, and under the cover of gunboat fire, they launched a devastating landing assault towards the nearby coastline!
Dongfan Island, Dayuan Sandbar, Chikan Coast.
When the Ming army's landing troops charged onto the beach with shouts, they were met by Dutch and Portuguese musketeers who were already waiting in formation, as well as some indigenous soldiers they had armed and hired.
The defensive line, consisting of nearly a thousand people, was formed into several firing columns, relying on the sand dunes, reefs, and temporary low walls and breastworks behind the beach.
They were all equipped with matchlock muskets, their dark muzzles pointed at the surging Ming army.
"Ready—Aim—Fire!"
Bang bang bang! Bang bang bang! Bang bang bang—!
The Western barbarians' musket array erupted with a dense barrage of fire, filling the air with smoke.
The first few dozen Ming soldiers, caught off guard, screamed as they fell to the ground, wounded by bullets. The landing offensive stalled.
However, faced with this expected resistance, the Ming generals commanding the landing operation wore cold and confident smiles.
He suddenly waved the command flag in his hand:
"Flintlock riflemen, riflemen—forward! Form ranks!"
Following the order, hundreds of lightly armored and agile soldiers quickly emerged from the Ming army troops that landed later.
The weapons they carried were completely different from the matchlock guns of the Western barbarians—they were shorter, simpler in structure, and most importantly, they lacked that troublesome match cord! These were the new flintlock guns that Zheng Zhilong had brought from the imperial armory, as well as rifles with greater power and longer range!
"First row—kneeling position! Aim—fire!"
"Second row—standing position! Aim—fire!"
"Third column, ready—!"
The well-trained Ming musketeers quickly formed a standard three-tiered firing formation. At the commander's calm command, flintlocks were struck, and muzzle flashes erupted!
Bang bang bang bang bang! Bang bang bang bang bang-! ! !
Unlike the somewhat dull, chaotic, and long intervals of fire from Western firearms, the volleys of fire from the Ming army's new flintlock muskets and rifles produced a crisper, more continuous, and denser sound! They had a faster rate of fire, higher accuracy, and, most importantly—a longer range!
The effective range of flintlock muskets far exceeded that of matchlock muskets, while the range of rifles reached a terrifying 150 paces or more! The Western barbarian musketeers were exposed to the deadly range of the Ming army's flintlock muskets and rifles before they even entered the optimal range of their own matchlock muskets!
Pfft! Pfft! Pfft! Ah—!
Lead bullets, like the scythe of death, swept across the Western barbarians' defenses.
The Western musketeers, who had thought they were at a safe distance behind breastworks and rocks, were now struck repeatedly as if by invisible hammers! Shots in the chest, heads bursting open, they screamed and rolled on the ground. Their thin leather armor or cloth clothing was like paper before the new lead bullets.
"My God! What kind of musket is this?!"
"Their guns... don't use matchlocks? And they shoot so far? And so fast?!"
"Retreat! Retreat now! Back to the fortress!"
The Western barbarians' defenses collapsed instantly under the Ming army's rapid and relentless attacks with their new firearms!
More than half of the musketeers were either killed or wounded in the first volley. The rest were completely stunned by the unprecedented and overwhelming firepower, their spirits broken. They dropped their weapons and fled in terror towards the fortified strongholds of Fort Zeelandia and Fort Provintia. (End of Chapter)