Chapter 823
Zhang Dingbian's Ammunition Supply
He had seen cannons before. His ancestors had seen cannons when they roamed the world and fought in the north and south. However, the cannons at that time were all small-caliber, such as small bronze cannons or other types.
But the artillery on the battlefield today is something Subutai has never seen before; it is large-caliber and can fire different types of ammunition.
Solid ammunition collapsed the city walls, while hollow shells exploded in all directions, causing widespread damage.
But that's not the most terrifying thing. The most terrifying thing is that while normal cannons are supposed to stop firing immediately after firing one shot, the cannons in the hands of the Han army can fire continuously, and the most powerful ones can even fire three shots in a row.
This ferocious monster emits a terrifying whistling sound like cannonballs, enough to instill fear and tremble in anyone.
This wasn't the sound of cannons; it was the death knell from hell, a sound that would terrify and fill anyone with dread.
Looking at the barrage of cannonballs and the breached city walls, Subutai frowned deeply. This was the most dangerous battle he had ever faced.
At this moment, his face darkened, and he roared, "Block it! Block all the gaps! Do not allow the enemy to take a single step forward! Block them all!"
Upon hearing Subutai's words, Boriged did not hesitate and immediately led his men to block the breach in the city wall, displaying unparalleled bravery under the artillery fire.
At this moment, Fu Youde looked at Boriged who was in the rescue and said, "General, stop the cannons for a moment, let me lead the brothers to charge, this time we will definitely break through his Daoma Pass."
Upon hearing this, Zhang Dingbian shook his head and said, "No rush."
He then looked at the artillery expert from the science and technology academy beside him and asked, "Do we have enough shells this time?"
Upon hearing this, the artillery expert said to Zhang Dingbian, "General, rest assured, the Prince of Han has allocated us five ammunition loads for this battle, which is enough."
Fu Youde, who was listening from the side, was taken aback and asked, "Five ammunition loads? What do you mean by five ammunition loads?"
Upon hearing this, Zhang Dingbian looked at Fu Youde and said, "We have a total of fifty cannons, divided into five groups of ten cannons each. This way, we can ensure that the ten cannons can bombard continuously without rest while they are in a cool-down period."
"This one-base ammunition load is enough to keep these fifty cannons firing for a day; five ammunition loads are enough to keep these cannons firing for five days straight!"
Fu Youde was completely dumbfounded. He looked at Zhang Dingbian and said, "This cannon, it's going to bombard us for five days straight?"
Zhang Dingbian nodded, and then Fu Youde said, "Then shouldn't we just bomb Daoma Pass to pieces?"
Zhang Dingbian said, "What we want is to blast it to pieces. I don't believe we can't level this place in five days."
"Fu Youde, you and Jin Yanzi take turns resting, and ensure that I have enough troops to maintain a state of readiness to attack Daomaguan at any time."
"The goal is to force them to station their troops at Daomaguan, making them easy targets for us. If they don't send troops up, we'll charge straight up and attack, forcing them to come and defend."
"Use the deceptive to appear real, and the real to appear deceptive, so that they are exhausted from dealing with it."
Upon hearing this, Fu Youde was dumbfounded and exclaimed, "General, is that even possible?"
Zhang Dingbian looked at Fu Youde and said, "Hehe, aren't you shocked? This is what the King of Han meant by 'the truth of the future lies in the cannon.' With this, many of the military strategies we used to be so proud of are not worth mentioning."
"This is the future."
Zhang Dingbian looked at the cannons, then at Fu Youde and asked, "So? Do you think you could hold out against these cannons if you were the defender?"
Fu Youde said, "How can flesh and blood resist these steel cannonballs? It's terrifying, terrifying."
Zhang Dingbian said, "Pass on my order: the cannons must keep firing even when the men stop. I want to plow through this Daomaguan Pass from beginning to end."
As Zhang Dingbian spoke, his eyes turned to Subutai at Daoma Pass, and Subutai also looked at Zhang Dingbian. Both of their eyes were filled with the most primal fighting spirit.
The cannons roared, and the entire Daomaguan Pass groaned in agony amidst the artillery fire—and this was only the beginning.
The nightmare has only just begun.
For three whole days, Subutai and Boriged thought the artillery bombardment would only last a short while, but they never expected it to last for three whole days. In those three days, Daomaguan was almost razed to the ground, and the casualties among the Golden Horde soldiers were even more terrifying.
And so it went until the fourth day.
At dawn on the fourth day, the area inside Daoma Pass was no longer like the human world.
For three consecutive days and nights, the roar of cannons never ceased.
At first, it was two hours per round, then one hour, and finally, the Han army's artillerymen were divided into three shifts, with the cannons never stopping even when the men rested. Those thirty dark behemoths spewed death day and night.
Shells landed on the gate walls, on the streets, and on any buildings that were still standing.
The city wall, built of bluestone, was chiseled open, like bones gnawed by a giant beast.
The gatekeeper's residence collapsed on the very first day, and the drill ground was blasted into a crater several meters deep, filled with murky blood.
The scariest time is at night.
Shells streaked across the night sky, trailing sparks, like meteors falling to earth. Each explosion tore a pale gash in the darkness, illuminating the figures fleeing through the ruins, the mutilated corpses, and the faces contorted with fear.
Inside the pass, no houses remained intact. The garrison and civilians who had not been able to evacuate huddled in cellars and tunnels. Each explosion caused a violent coughing fit—the smoke and dust in the air were so thick that it was suffocating.
Subutai stood at the entrance of a half-collapsed cellar, peering through the cracks at the hellish scene outside.
The chief commander of the Golden Horde seemed to have aged ten years in just three days. His eyes were sunken, his cheekbones were high, and his beard was covered in dust and blood. In his hand he held a piece of charred wood, a fragment of the main beam of the Guan Shou Mansion, on which a wolf head totem could still be faintly seen.
"General, the count is complete." The deputy general's voice rang out from behind, hoarse as a broken gong.
"We have less than 100,000 men left who can fight. We've run out of arrows, logs, and stones, and all the iron in the city has been melted down to make spearheads. Our food supplies... will last us two more days."
"How come there's so little food left?"
Subutai asked, and the soldier replied, "The grain couldn't be moved in time and was hit by artillery fire, which caused a fire. We were able to salvage only this much."
"What about the casualties?" Subutai asked, his voice eerily calm.
The lieutenant was silent for a moment: "Thirty thousand were killed in action, and... many more were seriously wounded and rendered incapacitated."
In other words, of the 200,000 defenders who started the war, most of them are now gone. And this is even without the Han army launching a large-scale siege—they simply bombarded the city day and night with those damned iron cannons, like a dull knife cutting flesh, slowly wearing down the defenders' will and bodies.
“What about Boriged?” Subutai asked again.
"He was overseeing the construction of fortifications at the West Gate. But..." the lieutenant paused, "...the fortifications kept collapsing after being repaired, and the Han army's cannons were always aimed at the repaired areas. The brothers all said that whether we repaired them or not, we were going to die anyway."
Subutai closed his eyes. He had fought half his life, from the Onon to the Danube, what kind of fierce battles hadn't he fought? But this was the first time he had encountered a battle where he had been driven to the brink of defeat without even seeing the enemy. Those fire-breathing iron tubes had a range far exceeding that of bows and crossbows, and their power was comparable to thunderbolts. This was no longer war; it was slaughter.
"General, let's retreat." The lieutenant finally spoke, his voice trembling with tears. "If we continue to hold out, everyone will die here. While we still have 100,000 soldiers capable of fighting, let's break out under cover of night, retreat back to the grasslands, and we can..."
"The future?" Subutai opened his eyes, bloodshot yet still sharp. "With such a weapon, do you think Zhang Dingbian will stop at Daoma Pass? If we retreat today, Dadu will be gone. If Dadu is gone, how will we explain to the King!"
The lieutenant was speechless.
“Those cannons…” Subutai looked towards the direction of the Han army's positions outside the pass. Although he couldn’t see anything through the ruins, every cannon shot reminded him of the presence of those killing gods. “They must be destroyed. If those cannons are destroyed, the Han army will be helpless. Daoma Pass can still be defended, and Dadu will still have a barrier.”
"But how can we destroy them? The Han army is heavily guarding those cannons; we can't even get out of the pass..."
“We can get out,” Subutai said slowly. “Although the Han army’s artillery fire is fierce, its accuracy is greatly reduced at night, and the gunners need to change shifts. Tonight at midnight, after the moon sets, will be the perfect opportunity.”
He turned and looked into the depths of the cellar, a resolute glint in his eyes. "Chuanboriged."
At midnight, the moon sets and the stars fade, marking the darkest hour before dawn.
The artillery fire did indeed become much sparser. The Han army artillerymen were only human; after operating the cannons for three consecutive days without rest or sleep, even the strongest bodies couldn't withstand it.
Zhang Dingbian divided the artillery unit into three shifts, each with four hours. The midnight hour was the handover time when the second shift was most tired and the third shift was not yet fully awake.
Although the shelling continued, the intervals were longer and the accuracy was much worse, with most of the shells landing in insignificant areas.
Beneath a section of collapsed city wall on the west side of Daoma Pass, Boriged lay among the rubble, waiting silently.
Behind him were five thousand carefully selected elite soldiers, all lightly armored and carrying only short weapons, kerosene, and explosives—no prisoners, no spoils, just destroy those iron cylinders.
Success might turn the tide of the war; failure would mean dying on the battlefield, which is better than being blown up alive inside the pass.
"General, the time has come," the guard whispered.
Boriged nodded without saying a word, only waving his hand.
Five thousand men leaped out of the ruins like ghosts, taking advantage of the darkness and the terrain to sneak towards the Han army's artillery positions.
They didn't take the main roads, but instead chose craters and ditches. Their movements were swift and silent, clearly indicating that they were the elite of the elite.
Boriged took the lead, his left arm still wounded and tightly wrapped in cloth. He held a curved knife in his right hand, the blade coated with black ash so that it did not reflect any light.
Three miles, a distance that cavalry could cover in an instant on ordinary days, took them half an hour tonight, each step taken with extreme caution, avoiding the sight of Han scouts. Finally, the outline of the Han army camp came into view.
It was a temporary camp, enclosed by wooden fences, and brightly lit inside.
Most conspicuous were the fifty cannons in the center of the camp. Even through the fence, their dark barrels could be seen pointing diagonally to the sky, like sleeping giants. Beside the cannons, the gunners were either sitting or lying down; some were dozing, and some were checking ammunition. There were not many patrolling soldiers, clearly not believing that anyone would dare to raid the camp.
Boriged lay prone at the edge of a shell crater, squinting as he observed. The camp had two fences, ten paces apart, with watchtowers in between, but the sentries seemed somewhat lax.
The artillery was concentrated in the center of the camp, surrounded by wooden crates, presumably containing ammunition. If they could break in, they could pour kerosene on it and ignite the explosives…
"Split into three teams," Boriged said in a low voice. "I'll lead one team straight for the artillery, Borchu will lead another to attack the left flank and create chaos, and Qimuba will lead a team to block the reinforcements. Remember, don't engage in prolonged combat; light the fire and leave. After you've succeeded, retreat westward and regroup at Eagle's Beak."
Five thousand men silently dispersed, like three poisoned daggers, quietly poised to strike the throat of the Han army.
However, just as Boriged was about to launch his attack, a sudden change occurred.
"boom--!"
A shell suddenly landed twenty paces in front of the crater where they were hiding, the explosion instantly illuminating the night sky. It didn't come from the artillery position; that direction was…the flank?
"An ambush!" Boriged's alarm bells rang in his mind, and he roared hoarsely, "Retreat! Retreat now!"
But it was too late.
Suddenly, countless torches lit up the surroundings. In the firelight, Han soldiers surged out of the darkness like a tide, bows and crossbows strung, spears like a forest, completely surrounding the five thousand men. At the forefront, a general sat upright on his horse, his silver armor gleaming coldly in the firelight; it was Fu Youde.
"General Borigede, I've been waiting for you." Fu Youde's voice came clearly in the night wind.
Boriged's heart sank to the bottom. They had fallen into a trap. The Han army had anticipated their night attack and deliberately feigned weakness to lure them out of the pass, where they laid an ambush.
"How did you know..." he asked through gritted teeth.
"The commander-in-chief said that Subutai's military strategy is to make good use of both conventional and unconventional tactics. If a frontal assault is hopeless, then a surprise attack must be launched." Fu Youde said calmly, "And a surprise attack is nothing more than seizing grain, burning supplies, and destroying key points. In the past three days, our army's supply lines have been unharmed and our supplies have been intact, so your target can only be artillery."
He paused, looking at Boriged: "The commander-in-chief also asked me to tell the general that a wise bird chooses its tree. The general is a renowned general of our time, why should you be buried with Subutai? If you are willing to surrender, the commander-in-chief will surely..."
"Shut up!" Boriged roared, a resolute glint in his eyes. "Warriors of the steppe, there are only wolves that die in battle, not dogs that surrender! My comrades—"
He raised his scimitar, the tip pointing directly at Fu Youde: "Warriors of the Golden Horde, today, only death awaits! Follow me—"
"kill!!!"
Five thousand elite warriors roared like wild beasts, no longer hiding or maneuvering, and charged straight at the Han army, knowing they would die, yet determined to take a piece of the enemy's flesh.
Fu Youde sighed and pointed his spear forward: "Release the arrows."
Bowstrings vibrated, arrows flew like locusts. The charging warriors fell like wheat being harvested, but the rest, fearless, continued their charge, stepping over the corpses of their comrades. The distance was too close; the Han army only had time for two volleys before the two sides clashed.
"clang!"
When Boriged's scimitar clashed with Fu Youde's spear for the first time, sparks flew. Weak with only one arm, he was forced back three steps by the impact, but immediately lunged forward again, his blade flashing like snow—a fight of life and death.
Fu Youde did not engage him in a direct confrontation. His spear moved like a nimble snake, striking, thrusting, sweeping, and parrying, always attacking when the opponent was about to defend.
After ten rounds, Boriged had three more wounds on his body, his armor stained with blood, but he seemed oblivious, his eyes fixed only on Fu Youde.
"General, why do this?" Fu Youde deflected his scimitar with a single spear thrust, the spear tip now resting three inches from his throat.
Boriged grinned, his mouth full of blood: "Fu Youde, you are a good opponent. But today, you cannot stop me."
Before he finished speaking, he lunged forward, letting the gun tip pierce his shoulder blade. With his left hand, he pulled out a ceramic jar from his pocket and bit off the fuse with his teeth—it was explosives!
Fu Youde's pupils contracted sharply, and he drew his gun and retreated hastily. But Boriged was like a leech, clinging on relentlessly, the fuse on the pottery jar hissing as it burned down to just an inch.
At the critical moment, an iron hammer came hurtling in from the side, smashing heavily into Boriged's left arm. The sound of bones cracking was clearly audible, and the pottery jar flew out of his hand, landing several feet away.
"boom!"
The blast wave knocked the two men off their feet. Fu Youde landed and rolled, his ears ringing. He struggled to his feet and saw Boriged lying in a pool of blood, his left arm mangled, but his right hand was still groping for the fallen scimitar.
"Take him down!" Fu Youde shouted.
Several Han soldiers stepped forward and pinned Boriged down. He struggled a few times, but finally gave up and stopped moving, his eyes fixed on Fu Youde, bloodshot.
The battlefield gradually calmed down. Of the five thousand elite soldiers, more than three thousand died in battle, and the rest were all wounded. Not a single one surrendered. The Han army also suffered more than a thousand casualties.
"General, what should we do with this man?" the guard asked, pointing at Boriged.
Fu Youde looked at the renowned general of the Golden Horde. He lay in a pool of blood, his breath faint, but his eyes still held a fierce, wolf-like glint. Such an opponent was worthy of respect.
"Take him away and treat him properly," Fu Youde said slowly. "Don't let him die."
"But General, he is an enemy general, why not..."
“The King of Han wants more than just this world. The future Golden Horde may very well be within his grasp. We’ll need a good guide then.” Fu Youde looked toward Daoma Pass, where the artillery fire was gradually intensifying again. A new day had begun. “A man like Boriged is more useful alive than dead.”
The guards seemed to understand but not quite, but military orders were absolute, and they immediately ordered a stretcher to be brought over.
Fu Youde turned and looked towards the Han army camp. The lights in the central command tent were still bright. He knew that Zhang Dingbian was watching them.
"Send orders to strengthen vigilance. Subutai will not give up if the attack fails." Fu Youde paused. "Also, tell the artillery to... add another 30% of ammunition today."
He looked towards Daomaguan, the once majestic pass that stood tall on the grassland, now riddled with holes and trembling amidst the gunfire.
"I'd like to see how long Subutai can hold out." (End of Chapter)