The wind rises at the end of the Ming Dynasty

Akdun tried his best to calm his breathing.

Each inhalation carried a strong smell of blood, and each exhalation condensed into white mist in the cold air.

In Ba La Pu, the Jingnan Army's artillery continued to fire shells at a steady and relentless pace.

These ghouls had been with them ever since they started a mile away.

Akdun didn't look up; seeing the flashes of fire and rising smoke from the cannons would only make his mind more chaotic.

He had no idea how long he had been walking; he only felt his legs growing heavier and his breathing becoming increasingly labored.

The cannon fire grew louder and closer with each shot.

Based on past experience, they should have walked about 150 steps by now.

"Oh!"

Another deafening explosion occurred, almost right next door.

Akdun shuddered, and a shrill scream came from not far beside him.

Out of the corner of his eye, Akdun saw a cannonball knock down two armored soldiers who were right in front of him.

The figures of the two armored soldiers were twisted and shattered in an instant.

The shells slammed into the ground, sending up a cloud of dirt mixed with grass roots and mud.

Hot flesh mixed with cold mud splattered onto Akdun's face.

Akdun's hand holding the bow trembled slightly, fear constantly lingering in his heart, growing ever deeper.

His resolve eventually wavered.

The shield carts, which were once invincible on the battlefield, now allowed them to safely approach the enemy's formation within a hundred paces, or even fifty paces.

However, these shield carts are now completely useless against the Jingnan Army's artillery, and instead become a burden to them.

"We can't go on like this..."

Akdun clenched his teeth and murmured softly.

……

"This can't go on like this!"

At the rear of the Qing army, Jirhalang's eyes were cold and his teeth were clenched as he uttered these words, which were almost squeezed out from between his teeth.

In view, the once neat line of shield vehicles had become incomplete, as if it had been gnawed by a giant beast.

The wreckage of the destroyed and abandoned shield carts was scattered along the roads the army passed through.

Blood flowed freely, soaking the tender green earth of early spring. The shocking dark red color was particularly glaring in the vast expanse of desolation.

Strange and cruel blood-red flowers bloomed in the grass.

He had hoped that the shield wagons would, as in the past, at least deliver most of the infantry to the front lines.

But in reality, these cumbersome wooden shields became slow-moving coffins and roadblocks in the face of the enemy's efficient artillery.

As the distance closed, the accuracy of the Jingnan Army's artillery reached an almost terrifying level.

Even if the continuous rain softened the soil, absorbing some of the kinetic energy of the shells and weakening their ricochet damage.

Even though the soldiers at the front were arranged in a loose formation, they still suffered considerable casualties when they advanced to a distance of 150 paces.

But what's even more fatal than the loss of life is...

It is a wavering of morale and a decline in fighting spirit.

Artillery can only kill a limited number of enemies, far less than guns and swords.

However, the blow to morale was almost devastating.

Jirhalang could clearly sense the thoughts of the soldiers at the front lines through his telescope, from their slightly hesitant steps and somewhat chaotic formations.

Fear is spreading like a plague.

Jirhalang understood.

Delaying will only cause more Manchurian warriors to die meaninglessly on the way to battle, eventually exhausting their strength and returning empty-handed.

"Drum roll!"

Jirhalang suddenly raised his head, his gaze fixed on the bastion of Balapu that was spewing flames, a resolute ruthlessness flashing in his eyes.

"Strike the marching drums!"

"Let the light cavalry from both sides also advance!"

Jirhalang's furious roar echoed through the formation, drowning out the battlefield noises.

Immediately, beneath the dozen or so enormous cowhide war drums set up in the central army formation, strongmen wielding drumsticks slammed them heavily onto the drumheads.

Suddenly, the sound of war drums, as rapid and violent as thunder, soared straight into the sky.

"Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump thump thump!"

The sound of the marching drums, like a violent heartbeat, swept across the entire battlefield in an instant, and struck the hearts of every Qing soldier.

On the east and west sides of Balapu, two Mongol cavalry units of ten thousand men responded with horn calls and swept towards Balapu, which was not far away.

"Abandon the vehicles and regroup!"

When the Qing army commander-in-chief, Bo'erhui, heard the drumbeats coming from the rear, he immediately reacted.

Military orders were passed down level by level, and the deep, penetrating sound of conch shells rang out one after another between the various military formations, intertwining with the thunderous sound of war drums.

The Qing soldiers who received the order to abandon their shield carts breathed a sigh of relief and did not hesitate to discard the shield carts they had relied on so heavily in the past.

Under the officers' shouts and urging, the surviving soldiers began to assemble.

A dozen or so breaths later, the Qing army's two red banners had completed their formation.

These hunters, who emerged from the land of Changbai Mountains and Heilongjiang River, have experienced countless battles and bloody fights, and are all seasoned veterans.

They are undoubtedly a powerful force of this era!
The constant casualties did indeed affect their morale; the deaths and injuries of their own people inevitably impacted their spirits.

However, it also stirred up the ferocity in their very being.

However, compared to the high level of organization of the two Red Banner soldiers, the light infantry of the Mongols at the forefront were not as swift, and their lines remained quite chaotic.

However, they no longer had time to calmly regroup.

After seeing that the formation of the great formation had been adjusted slightly, Boerhui immediately issued another military order.

Within the great formation, the originally steady and methodical drumbeats suddenly changed, instantly becoming urgent.

"kill!!!"

The fierce shouts in Manchu echoed across the front lines of the Qing army.

The Mongol light soldiers and the bondservants who had been pushing the carts still had lingering fear on their faces. Their lines were loose, their steps unsteady, and they had not yet recovered from their fear, but they had no choice but to continue forward.

Behind them were the gleaming weapons of the flag bearers of the two red flags.

If they dare to retreat, all that awaits them is a merciless execution.

Deserters on the battlefield not only face the punishment of losing their lives, but their families are also implicated and reduced to slavery. One hundred and fifty paces is not a long distance, and with the heavy shield carts abandoned, the Qing army's speed suddenly increased considerably.

Freed from the cumbersome constraints, these lightly armed Mongol soldiers and bondservants, along with the elite infantry of the two Red Banners following behind, began to advance at an extremely rapid pace.

Fast-moving targets are obviously harder to hit than slow-moving targets. The artillery on the Jingnan Army's Balapu line was still roaring, but the shells began to deviate more from their intended landing point.

The shells fired either crashed deeply into the open ground in front of the crowd, splashing up large patches of mud.

They either whizzed past the heads of the charging troops and fell behind.

The heavy artillery behind the Qing army lines continued to roar as a final support for the attacking forces.

Heavy shells traced arcs through the air, bombarding the Jingnan Army's Balapu position one after another.

Although most of these shells were deflected or absorbed by the strong fortifications, some results were still achieved.

A lucky shell struck a poorly protected gun emplacement, destroying it completely.

The firing at two or three other artillery positions was also briefly halted due to the suppression of Qing artillery fire.

Many of the Jingnan Army soldiers hiding behind the wall were also hit by artillery shells, and casualties began to appear.

The defensive fortifications at Balapu were hastily constructed, and were weakened by the Qing army's constant harassment and the limited construction period.

At the same time, due to the scarcity of supplies at the front, it was difficult to obtain enough bricks and stones, and the entire front was basically composed of earthen and wooden structures.

Heavy artillery shells bombarded the Jingnan Army's positions, and despite the Qing army's repeated bombardment, some results were achieved.

Jirhalang's expression relaxed slightly, but after a moment, his expression turned ferocious again.

When they were about a hundred paces away, plumes of smoke rose one after another from the Jingnan Army's Eight Wax Shops' battle line, instantly forming a continuous white smoke dragon that stretched across the front of the stockade wall and kept expanding and rolling.

Along with this terrifying cloud of smoke, a series of deafening explosions, far more intense and ear-piercing than a salvo of artillery fire, erupted like popping beans!
Inside the Balapu, the Jingnan Army's musketeers began firing!

At a distance of 100 paces, they were already within the killing range of the Hai Shi guns equipped by the Jingnan Army.

At this distance, while the Sea Oath Gun struggles to penetrate armor, it still poses a deadly threat to unarmored units.

Where did the Mongol light infantry and Han Chinese bondservants, who were serving as cannon fodder, get their armor?
Most of them were only wearing fur coats or thin cotton clothes. In the face of these deadly lead bullets, their flesh and blood were no different from being naked!

Jirhalang gritted his teeth.

He had a complete view of the entire battle.

He saw the very front of the charging column seem to have crashed into an invisible wall, almost causing it to bleed profusely.

The Hai Shi guns used by the Jingnan Army did not have rifling. Although they could cause effective damage at a distance of 100 paces, they could not guarantee accuracy. The lead bullets would become erratic due to the distance.

However, quantitative change can lead to qualitative change. When thousands of guns fire at the same time, there is no need to aim. Just spray bullets at the surging crowd, and there will always be unlucky people who will be taken by any one of them.

This kind of large-scale, comprehensive firing was precisely how firearms were used in this era.

The Qing army's entire front line was no longer a straight line, but rather showed undulating waves and sparse gaps.

Jirgalang's expression was gloomy; the heavy casualties suffered by the vanguard were tearing his heart apart.

Their family was not wealthy, and the total number of people in all the Manchu tribes combined was not large.

They emptied their coffers and could only muster 70,000 bannermen. Every death was a loss, and they received no replenishment whatsoever.

Jirhalang gritted his teeth, gripped the dagger at his waist, and stared fiercely at the location of the Eight Wax Shop ahead.

His heart was breaking, but he had no other choice.

Whether or not to fight this battle is no longer up to them.

The tide of history swept them away, pushing them to this desperate place where they had to either be smashed to pieces or suddenly see the light.

Jirhalang closed his eyes in anguish, but he did not remain in despair for long.

A moment later, he reopened his eyes, forcibly suppressing all the pain and struggle.

The two Red Banners, with eight thousand armored cavalrymen remaining in the central army, slowly spurred their horses forward, gradually pressing down on the front.

……

The roar of the cannons had become a continuous buzzing in Akdun's ears, making his brain tingle.

The white smoke dragon danced in Aktun's field of vision, but Aktun still did not stop.

They suffered heavy casualties but finally closed the distance to within fifty paces.

The Mongol light soldiers and bondservants who had originally been shielding them from the front were now dwindling in number, with many already fallen on the way.

At the forefront, the Mongol light infantrymen advanced rapidly, continuously firing arrows into the Balapu area as they went.

The bondsers, carrying their weapons, cried and screamed as they were driven to the front lines, trembling as they moved toward the wall of death.

They were all just human shields used to deplete the Ming army's ammunition.

At this distance, the accuracy and lethality of the Sea Oath Gun had reached an extremely terrifying level.

Almost the instant the muzzle flashed, the bullet was already upon them.

Their power has not diminished at all; they are enough to easily shatter bones, pierce heavy armor, and create terrible cavities inside the human body.

At extremely close range, the coverage effect of a salvo becomes terrifying!
The morale of the Qing soldiers continued to plummet. With each step forward, someone next to them might suddenly fall down as if struck by an invisible hammer, or let out a shrill scream.

Akdun's hands trembled. He could clearly see the tense yet determined faces of the Jingnan Army musketeers behind the crenellations of the stockade wall, and the muskets that once again peered out, flashing with the cold light of death.

As the rapid drumbeats abruptly stopped, Akdun suppressed the surging fear in his heart and instinctively halted his steps.

They had reached a distance of forty paces.

Without the slightest hesitation, these seasoned archers of the Two Red Banners displayed astonishing military skills.

Almost the instant they stopped walking, they had already completed the actions of taking the arrow, nocking the string, and drawing the bow.

Unlike the soft bows and arrows commonly used by the Ming border troops and the Mongols, they held the terrifyingly powerful Manchu heavy bows in their hands.

The bows they used were larger and heavier, and the arrows they shot were also heavier, almost the same size as short spears.

Without the slightest hesitation, Akdun had already chosen his target during the march—a Jingnan Army musketeer hiding behind a breastwork and diligently loading his weapon.

Although the Jingnan army's musketeer only had the upper half of his helmet showing, he was still confident that he could hit the target with one shot and pierce through the musketeer's helmet.

The instant he aimed, Akdun released the bowstring.

Akdun suddenly released his thumb and forefinger, and in the next instant, the bowstring slid out along the smooth surface of the thumb ring.

A deep, penetrating bowstring snapped open, and the same sound echoed from all around him.

The deadly swarm of bees shot straight from the Qing army's lines toward the Jingnan army's lines.

At this distance, the accuracy required by these experienced archers reached an extremely terrifying level.

In an instant, the previously tight firepower network on the Balaipu Jingnan Army's lines appeared with many gaps, resulting in a brief pause.

Akdun did not relax, but continued to draw arrows and nock bows again.

The biggest advantage of bows and arrows over muskets is their rate of fire; only a continuous barrage of arrows can suppress a musket's volley.

And just as he drew his bow and nocked the arrow...

Behind them, two red-flag infantrymen, wielding swords and shields and tiger-shaped spears, surged forward like a tidal wave! (End of Chapter)